


Green Like Spring

by heavensong



Category: Sofia the First (Cartoon)
Genre: Disney, Fluff, M/M, i just want the old men to kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8269759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavensong/pseuds/heavensong
Summary: The annual Spring Gala is coming up in only a few short days and King Roland has made a few changes to the usual celebration, none of which sit too well with the royal sorcerer. Thankfully, Baileywick is always there to lend a helping hand... though he already has his hands full with preparing the castle for the party.





	1. Wretched News

Cedric, really…” Chiding words elicited a groan from the sorcerer, accompanied by a slump of the shoulders and a rather dramatic turn to face the previously unoccupied doorway.

“Do you mind? I’m actually quite busy right now, Baileywick. Couldn’t you tell by the closed door and the fact that I’m, you know- … _BUSY_?” Cedric gestured around the workshop, emphasizing his point. He currently sat at his usual desk, large potion book propped open in front of him. “I mean honestly, if a closed door doesn’t quite exclaim: _‘KEEP OUT!’_ what will? It seems pretty obvious to me…” He folded his arms across his chest belligerently, turning his nose up at the unwelcome castle steward.

Baileywick waited for the sorcerer to finish his miniature tirade, patient as always. He simply nodded at Cedric’s complaints and entered further into the workshop. “If you’re quite finished, I can go ahead and inform you of the reason for my intruding upon your precious sanctuary.”

If Cedric didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn he’d heard a hint of sarcasm in the Steward’s words. He brushed the thought away and nodded in response. “Carry on then, I suppose…”

“Right.” Baileywick stated curtly. He couldn’t help his eyes wandering the room he now stood in the center of. Dirty beakers and crumpled parchment littered the towers stone floors, the sorcerer’s laundry still hanging out to dry above. He pursed his lips, holding back the urge to further reprimand the other gentleman. “As you know, the Spring Gala is coming up very soon. That leaves us with just a few short days to prepare…” Baileywick glanced around the messy quarters for effect. “Though I’m sure you’re properly equipped for your duties. The King has requested that the magical flower-fall blossoms be a mixture of rose and marigold; naturally, to match the new drapery. The rest of the servants and I will take care of the bouquets, table settings, and other decorations of course… We just need to be on the same page as far as the planning goes.” The steward continued rolling through his mental checklist, which Cedric could be certain was as accurate, if not more so, than the physical copy. He was close to tuning out Baileywick completely before the older man’s sights trained back on him, snapping him back into the present.

“Oh, and I mustn’t forget… Both the King and our Queen have declared this more than a celebration for the attending guests. The gala dress code now extends to members of the royal court, as well as participation in the festivities… “ Baileywick paused and folded his hands delicately behind his back. “…Including the royal family waltz.”

Cedric took a moment to process this, blinking several times before a disquiet frown overtook his features. “You mean to say I’ll have to dance at this ridiculous gathering!?”

“And don a proper waistcoat, I’m afraid.”

“What!?”

“You’ll have to do away with those robes for the evening. Swap them for something more appropriate for the gala. Don’t fret. We can tailor something quite fashionable in time for the event if you don’t have a passable tailcoat… Perhaps a silk cravat as well…” The steward drifted back to his mental checklist while Cedric checked out. This was just fantastic… Why couldn’t King Roland just let things alone? All Cedric wanted was to perform his enchanted flower-fall, impress the guests and receive his due lauds and praise, partake in a glass of sparkling wine, and slink back to his tower to brood. The absolute last thing he needed was to be forced into dressing up in some uncomfortable clothes and made to look the fool on the dancefloor. The sorcerer sunk further back on his stool, wearing the perfect sullen pout and trying not to throw a visible fit. “I don’t want to do _any_ of this. What’s wrong with the clothes I always wear…?”

Baileywick scoffed lightly, but corrected his behavior and let his usual, inoffensive smile take over once again. “Cedric, please understand. This is a good thing! It’s an honor to be considered part of the royal family and you should be pleased that these requirements are being made of you. What better way to enjoy the gala than to be a part of building it up, as well as attending like a proper guest?”

“I won’t dance…” Cedric huffed.

“You will.”

“I don’t _want_ to!”

“That much is obvious, but I’m afraid you’ll simply have to get over it.”

“…”

“…”

“I can’t…”

“That’s ridiculous. As far as my knowledge goes, you have no prior engagements stopping you from-“

“I don’t know _HOW_ , Baileywick!” Cedric shouted, cheeks reddening slightly as he folded in on himself out of embarrassment. Oh how he wished he could simply disappear in a puff of smoke in that moment. He was too tired for this argument and he wished the other man to disappear as well… to provide him with some deserved peace and quiet. He realized he’d been rewarded with at least a few moments of the quiet part, the castle steward having let his words come to a rest. The two stared at each other for a bit just like that, the silence soon becoming awkward for the sorcerer in particular. He jolted when Baileywick straightened his posture and spoke again.

“Well, we’ll have to set up a lesson or two for you then.” He said, matter-of-factly. “Come to the practice ballroom in the west hall and you can begin your lessons immediately.” Baileywick gave a curt nod and turned to walk out the door. “I do wish you’d have let me know this earlier. There’d be more time to prepare.”

“B-but, w-wait…. I, I mean, I- hold on a minute-“ Cedric’s protests were interrupted before he could form a coherent sentence.

“Two o’clock, practice ballroom, west hall. That’s well after a good lunch and leaves plenty of practice time before dinner is to be prepared. Speaking of, dinner should be making its way up here in about twenty-five minutes. Good day, Cedric.” Baileywick looked over his shoulder and gave another gentle smile. “And do try to clean this place up a bit.” With that, the castle steward made his exit, the heavy wooden door falling closed behind him.

Cedric gripped the edges of his stool and blinked, speechless. His eyes wandered to the grandfather clock near one of his bookshelves, reading at 5:35. Cedric’s avian companion chose the moment to alight on his master’s shoulder, preening away. “I’m not looking forward to any of this, Wormy…” He received an agreeable caw from Wormwood and resolved to return to his work desk, albeit with more sulk and grumbling than usual. His stomach chimed in, reminding him to be more eager for the meal that would surely arrive perfectly on-time.

~*~

The next morning passed by uneventfully for most of the castle residents, though a certain royal sorcerer had slept in till close to noon. Grumbling under his breath and tossing the blankets onto the floor, Cedric rose from his slumber to the merry tune of several sharp knocks at his door. He tossed on his robe and rubbed sleepily at his eyes as he opened the door only to come face to face with a perky-looking maid.

“Your lunch, Mister Cedric! There’s a pot of tea as well.” The maid nearly knocked him over as she piled the trays into his arms in an obvious hurry, though her polite smile remained. “Sorry for the rush sir, there’s just so much to do today. Enjoy your lunch!” With a curtsy, the maid disappeared down the tower stairwell, leaving Cedric to juggle the platters of food. He kicked the door closed as best he could with just his foot and tried not to let the precariously perched tea set crash to the floor.

“Well, _that_ certainly woke me up.” The silvery cover was lifted to reveal several tea sandwiches and some sort of pudding-dessert. Cedric rolled his eyes at the overly cute tea set and precisely cut sandwiches. It was almost as if Baileywick himself had prepared the meal, seeing how perfect and clean the presentation was.

~*~

Meanwhile, the maid who’d brought lunch up to the slumbering sorcerer hurried through the castle and towards its enormous kitchen. She let out a small shriek as her cart careened through the halls and almost bowled over her boss. Baileywick caught the front of the cart with ease and nodded at the young lady. “Are you alright, dear? It’s a busy morning as usual, but you don’t have to push yourself this hard.” He gave her a gracious smile, soothing the frazzled maid’s nerves quite completely.

“Y-yes, thank you Mr. Baileywick. I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure I had plenty of time to start folding today’s linens!”

“All is well and seems to be perfectly on schedule… By the way, may I inquire how delivering lunch to our dear royal sorcerer’s tower faired?”

The young maid quirked a grin, light laughter behind her eyes. “He was just rising, sir. Actually, I think I might’ve woken him with my knocking, seeing as he came to the door in his pajamas, hair a right mess.” She stifled a chuckle.

Baileywick found the situation less amusing, a perturbed look resting on his features. He gave an exasperated huff before shaking his head sternly. “Of course… Thank you. You may continue on about your day, miss. Thank you for the update.”

She bowed her head politely and smiled back up at the steward as she grasped the carts handles yet again. “I’ll make sure to be more careful, sir.”

Baileywick nodded and stepped to the side to let the maid pass.

~*~ 

The sound of the clocks striking two-o’clock echoed through the west halls, causing a rather panicked Cedric to pick up his pace. He was already late and not even halfway to the ballroom he was due at. He’d considered skipping the lesson completely, making up an excuse would be easy enough, but the thought of another reprimand loomed over him and seemed to be enough to turn him away from such thoughts. This is how he found himself skittering down the halls at top speed, colliding with several servants and tripping on the lavish decorative rugs more than once.

“Whoah, ‘scuse me! Sorry!” Narrowly avoiding a group of chattering maids, Cedric slid in front of the large double doors of the west ballroom. He raised a hand as if to knock, but thought better of himself. He lived and worked in this castle… He could just go right on in! It wasn’t as if this were an area closed off to him. Still, with all the servants buzzing about and prepping for the Spring Gala, and it being an hour where he might still be found in his bed, Cedric felt that the castle halls belonged to them more than himself. He should be in his tower, working on potions and spells, not going to insipid dance lessons. With what was probably the worst mindset to have going into a classroom, Cedric set his jaw and pushed open the doors to the ballroom. He cleared his throat and entered, resolving to not let himself be intimidated by the spacious area inside.

“Ah, Cedric. I see you’ve finally decided to show up.”

Cedric groaned, shoulders falling forward into his usual defeated posture. Baileywick stood at the center of the ballroom, checking his golden pocket watch and resting a hand on his hip. He didn’t appear to be angry… Still, Cedric feared the scolding that was sure to come. When he was met with none, the sorcerer walked forward to meet with the other man.

“So where’s the teacher? Looks like I’m not the only one that’s late.” He crossed his arms and smirked.

Baileywick closed his pocket watch with a succinct click and met Cedric’s eyes. “I will be your instructor this afternoon. The castle’s usual teacher is presently occupied with other lessons, unfortunately. Since this is a last-minute, but _necessary_ course, I shall be taking his place.” Light gleamed off of the watch before it disappeared into the steward’s waistcoat.

Cedric swallowed hard, suddenly very nervous.

“I assume you’ll want to begin immediately, seeing as several minutes of our time have been shaved off already. There’s much to learn.” Baileywick stepped forward, closing the gap between the two. His face remained unreadable as he held out a hand towards Cedric.

“I, uh-… a-already?”

“Of course.”

“I mean, shouldn’t I warm up or something…?”

Baileywick let out a sigh, tilting his head back and clicking his tongue. Couldn’t he see that there was a schedule to keep here? Castle duties rested on the steward’s shoulders and Baileywick prided himself in his work. With the gala coming up, things were much busier than usual and the servants were really feeling the burn. There was no time to waste. Still, he could see the apprehension on the royal sorcerer’s face and in his body language. He looked to be suffering greatly at the prospect of doing some comparatively simple work. Baileywick did his best to quell his own frustrations and stresses and pull from a seemingly infinite well of patience. “The best way to get through this is to begin slowly. Here, I’ll lead.”

Baileywick took hold of the other man’s hand, noting his sweaty palms. His other hand situated itself at Cedric’s waist and secured the starting point of their waltz. “Here is where we’ll begin. Note the position I have my hands at: This is how to lead your partner. Got that so far?” Cedric nodded, which he took as a signal to move onward. One foot skimmed forward, followed by the other matching his step. Slowly, the pair inched forward and back, Baileywick counting aloud as they moved. His posture, ever composed, contrasted greatly with the other man’s. Cedric’s entire form was rigid yet somehow still capable of being clumsy and awkward, his legs threatening to give out at any moment. His gaze was firmly locked onto his own two feet and he’d thrown his entire consciousness into the task of keeping himself upright, let alone memorizing the steps. “One, two, three. One, two, three.” Baileywick’s voice was steady and rhythmic. The sorcerer trained his ear to the sound, trying to clear his nerve-addled mind. He was surprised to find it calmed him considerably… at least enough to allow him to finally look up from the ground.

“You’re doing quite well.”

Cedric’s eyes widened, starting at the sudden compliment. “R-really?”

“Absolutely. Would you like to try leading now?” Baileywick smiled gently, his features soft.

“I don’t know…”

Baileywick gave Cedric’s hand a reassuring squeeze before switching positions. “You’ll be fine.” He took each of the sorcerer’s hands and placed them into the proper position around his waist before resting his own on the other man’s shoulder. “See? It’s simple. Trust me.”

Cedric pursed his lips and swallowed hard, electing to believe his dance instructor instead of worrying more than he already was. Brows knitted together in concentration, he tried his hardest to recall the steps he’d previously been shown.

“Try to keep eye-contact. Your dance partner will want to see your face, not the top of your head.”

“Hmph! I know that.” Cedric grumbled, pulling his gaze back to the steward’s face. He set his jaw, frown growing as he attempted to face forward whilst keeping his rhythm. Baileywick, saint that he was, made no comment as his feet were subjected to the sorcerer’s own clumsy footfalls. A few savage heel-to-the-toes later though, and Baileywick seemed to have had enough, releasing Cedric’s hands and stepping back. He folded his arms behind his back and nodded.

“I think that’s enough for the moment.”

“Sorry about stepping on your shoes… I told you I can’t dance.” Cedric huffed an apology, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing.

“It’s alright, I assure you. Though you’ll need to continue practicing in order to get better…” Baileywick smirked and cocked a brow. “And to save my aching feet.”

A light blush bloomed across the sorcerer’s cheeks. “I already apologized for that!”

“So you did.” Baileywick laughed, a sound Cedric didn’t realize until now he had rarely heard from the old steward. He was always so polite and composed, certainly not the easiest to read. Crossing his arms across his chest defensively, Cedric tore his eyes away and directed his sight back to the floor.

“You did well today, Cedric. I believe you’ve got the basic steps down; and with practice comes perfection, as I’m sure you know. We’ll work on flair tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Cedric raised a brow.

“Naturally. You can meet me again for further instruction, same room, same time. Of course I’d prefer you be punctual, but I’ll be here either way.” Baileywick adjusted his coat and smoothed out any wrinkles, not that any would dare find their way to the steward’s immaculate attire.

Rolling his eyes, Cedric let out a defeated sigh. “Right…”

“Wonderful! I will see you tomorrow. Now, I’ve still much to attend to regarding the celebration. If you’ll excuse me…” The steward gave a courteous bow, adjusted his glasses, and nodded as he exited and disappeared into the castle halls.

Cedric stood alone in the now-empty ballroom, arms hanging lamely at his sides. He supposed he could leave any time he wanted, but it’d feel awkward if he ended up following behind one of the servants, or worse, _Baileywick_. No, no, he’d just wait for a bit. Wait for the halls to clear so that he could make his leave and hurry back to his tower to brood for the rest of the evening. Or at least until dinner… Still, the sorcerer couldn’t help noting this was the second time this week he’d been left speechless after the unflappable steward had left the room. He moaned aloud and rubbed his palms into his eyes. “I can’t believe I’ve still got three more days of this nonsense!”


	2. Dances and Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little shorter than the last, but I'm working on three hopefully being a little longer! Much thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read this! You guys are amazing ^^

Another typical morning passed by, the royal family going about their business as usual, although the children were to go into town with Queen Miranda for the day. Cedric stood at the steps with the guards and a few attending servants who were seeing the party off. He grinned sheepishly and waved back at sweet, little Sofia, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She was always profoundly eager to take a trip into town and see her old friends, having nearly talked Cedric’s ear off the few days leading up to the excursion. Thankful for a small respite, the sorcerer watched the carriage disappear beyond the castle grounds and then made his way back indoors. As he walked into the grand foyer, he glimpsed the clock and grimaced. Only a few hours before his next dance lesson… Cedric felt his anxiety building up and butterflies beginning to rise in his stomach. Oh, what he would give to get out of the lesson today, if not the gala in its entirety. He clenched his fists and resolved to grab a _light_ lunch, lest it come up again thanks to his nervousness.

The time passed quicker than he would’ve liked, but at least he’d had some time to prepare himself, unlike the previous day. He made his way to the west ballroom once again, though this time there were markedly less servants buzzing around and tripping him up. The large doors once again loomed over him, making him feel small and insignificant. Again, he raised a hand to knock, realized what he was doing, and yanked his hand back to his side while cursing under his breath. He hadn’t noticed until the moment his fingers reached the door handle, but there was the soft sound of violin trickling out and into the halls. Cedric’s interest piqued, he finally managed to enter into the modest classroom. Well, modest compared to the grand ballroom that is. He still felt dwarfed, even in the beautiful practice hall…

“Ah, Cedric! Good to see you on time.” Baileywick turned to face him, having been preoccupied with a small musical ensemble that looked to be doing some last-minute tuning.

“What’s going on over there?”

Baileywick clasped his hands together and smiled, looking to be quite proud of the arrangement. “I figured it was a good time to gather some musical accompaniment for our lessons today. You’ll find it’s much easier to keep rhythm when you actually have something to dance _to_.”

Cedric shrugged, disinterest plain on his features. “Whatever you say.”

“Ahem-“ Baileywick shrugged off the apathetic response and approached the sorcerer, once again offering his hand. “Shall we begin?”

The butterflies in Cedric’s stomach seemed to flare again, causing him to stutter. “I, uh, s-sure!”

Baileywick nodded towards the miniature band and the air around them slowly filled with music. Wordlessly, he took hold of Cedric’s hands and placed them into the proper position once more. Strings picked up first, the pace staying slow and simple, but jovial. Things were definitely flowing smoother than their first day of practice. Cedric still stole glances at his feet every so often, but a gentle reminder from his partner every time he stared too long brought his gaze back up to the other man’s eyes. _Green. They were a wonderfully vivid green._

The next couple measures in the song required him to sidestep, a point where his legs always threatened to tangle. And suddenly, as if on cue, he was falling. The world around him blurred as he felt his feet shoot out from underneath him. His eyes widened and his arms reached out for whatever they could hold onto in a panic. They found no purchase… but as Cedric braced for the inevitable impact with the ballroom floor, he found himself waiting for nothing.

“Are you alright?” Baileywick questioned, worry in those green eyes. He had caught Cedric before he could hit the ground and was leaning over his form almost protectively.

“Wh-what? What happened?” Cedric suddenly felt very warm. He squirmed in the other man’s embrace and was promptly released, allowing him to right himself. The music had stopped and his cheeks were heating up more and more as the seconds ticked by in silence.

“You tripped.”

“I am aware of that!”

“I was only answering your question, Cedric. Now, if you’ll answer mine, I’ll ask again: Are you alright?” Baileywick looked genuinely concerned. Whether it was for the fall or because of Cedric’s defensive behavior, was a mystery. The musical ensemble looked on with curiosity, though they dared not comment.

Cedric glared at the steward, then back to the floor. “…I’m _fine_.”

“Would you like to continue?”

“I’d much rather call it quits for the day, if you don’t _mind_.” Cedric spat. His pulse hammered in his ears and he was itching to run out of the ballroom. The space that once felt open and huge suddenly grew suffocating. “This is a waste of time…”

“Cedric…”

“ _I said I’m done!_ I’m going back to my workshop now. Let the servants know I’ll be skipping dinner tonight.” He knew he was being a bit overdramatic, but he just couldn’t stand this atmosphere. He needed to push everyone away as much as he could and get his thoughts together.

Baileywick’s worried expression seemed to melt away to a blank mask. He straightened and adjusted his spectacles, clearing his throat. “Of course.” His voice was professional and emotionless, each word clipped short.

Cedric turned to leave, wiping his once-again sweaty palms on his robe. He was almost at the door, but the steward’s voice stopped him before he could escape.

“You’ve got a fitting tomorrow at noon. We can forgo the dance lessons tomorrow if you wish, but an appointment with the tailor must be kept.”

The weary sorcerer looked over his shoulder at Baileywick, who now had his back turned. He seemed to be waving the musicians to pack up and leave by the looks of it.

“Don’t be late.”

Cedric rolled his eyes and closed the doors behind him, glad to be rid of the days’ responsibilities. He made his way back to the tower, checking a rather dignified-looking clock in the hallway before his staircase. It hadn’t been that long, at least not as long as the lesson had _felt_. His little fall and subsequent outburst had cut the class relatively short, not that he was complaining. Still, Cedric felt a twinge of guilt. After all, Baileywick had gathered a band to practice with them today, and was still taking time out of his busy gala preparation schedule to set all this up. Cedric grimaced at his own behavior and stomped his foot in frustration. How ridiculous! He shouldn’t be feeling bad at all; in fact, he should feel great relief! Those horribly awkward dance lessons were out of the way early, and even cancelled for the next day. He could handle a simple fitting, couldn’t he? Cedric nodded to himself and continued his way up to his workshop, conscious clear and troubling emotions pushed to the back of his mind.

~*~

Several more hours passed with the sorcerer doing his intended sulking up in his tower. His stomach rumbled loudly, making him regret his earlier declaration to skip dinner. Cedric stood from his stool suddenly, startling Wormwood and causing the poor bird’s feathers to ruffle. He began to pace the room, mulling over whether or not he should suck up his pride and go down to the kitchen. Another growl from his hungry belly interrupted his thoughts and made the decision for him, though his stubbornness had put up a good fight. Grabbing his wand, Cedric prepared to journey down to the kitchen to find something to quell his noisy stomach.

“I’ll be back in a bit, Wormy. I’ll be sure to grab something for you too, don’t fret!” A simple caw was his response as Cedric smiled and left the tower.

Soon, he arrived at one of several entrances to the kitchen. It was much quieter than usual, given the fact that it was well past dinner and most of the cooking and cleaning had been completed hours ago. How perfect! He could grab himself a bite without having to admit his mistake in denying supper to a nosey servant or chef. Discreetly, Cedric pushed open the double-swinging doors and crept his way into the kitchen. The counters were immaculate and everything from dinner had presumably been neatly put away. He stood alone in the pristine room, wondering where he should begin rummaging. As he wandered towards the pantry, something on one of the large islands caught his eye. A large, covered silver tray, one that his meals were usually served on, rested conspicuously on the countertop. Cedric cocked a brow and tilted his head, the curious object looking very out of place in such a tidy kitchen. He walked towards the tray and eyed it suspiciously before daring to uncover its contents. Underneath, he was surprised to find a portion of leftovers from dinner, including a delicate pastry for dessert. Cedric blinked several times before glancing around the room, checking to make sure he was really alone. Indeed, he was.

“How peculiar…” Cedric mused. Not one to pass on what must’ve been divine providence, the sorcerer quickly covered the tray and carried it back to his tower.

~*~

He finished the meal, thankfully uninterrupted, and sighed happily as he relaxed back in his chair. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of something that he’d missed upon first inspection of the tray. A little note had been tucked underneath the paper doily that the pastry had been sitting on. Cedric leaned forward and plucked the note from its hiding place, unfolding it and holding it up to the dim evening light. In smooth black ink and perfect looping cursive the note read simply: _‘Reserved for the Royal Sorcerer: Dinner was concluded with an assortment of freshly-baked pastries. Please enjoy your meal.’_  

Cedric flipped the note over, the handwriting there mirroring the front of the little card with its own message: _‘Twelve-o’clock. Fitting.’_

“ _Baileywick_.” Of course it was Baileywick. Who else could it have been? The flawless handwriting should have been a dead giveaway, let alone the little reminder for him on the back of the note. Cedric folded the card back up and tucked it away in his robe’s sleeve, saving it to remind himself of the time so he wouldn’t be irksomely late… as usual. Letting out a pent-up sigh, the sorcerer shook his head and decided it was time to get to bed. At the moment he didn’t have any energy left to waste worrying about the days to come.


	3. A Fitting Embrace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, did I manage to get a third chapter of something up? This almost never happens! I'm amazed too!! Hope you all enjoy! ^^

“Where are you heading, Baileywick?” The littlest princess fought to keep pace with the steward’s long strides. She had pinched up the skirts of her dress and was smiling up at him, eyes bright.

“To the dressing rooms.” Baileywick gradually slowed his steps, allowing Sofia the catch up. He smiled back at his small companion, nodding his head in a little bow of acknowledgment.

“Are you helping Amber choose another dress to change into at the gala? She already has four but… I guess one more couldn’t hurt." Sofia laughed lightly into her hand.

Baileywick’s lips twitched upward at her comment. “No, Princess, I’m afraid not.” He plucked the pocket watch from his coat to glimpse the hour. Satisfied that he was making good time, he continued. “I have a fitting scheduled. Our dear royal sorcerer is in dire need of some appropriate dress for the spring gala. It’s very last-minute, but I simply cannot let him skulk around another celebration in those robes… They’re hardly suitable for the occasion.”

Sofia’s eyes appeared to sparkle, even moreso than usual. “Mr. Cedric is going to dress up too? That’s _wonderful_!” She clasped her hands together in front of her chest, excitement radiating from her tiny form. “Oh, Baileywick! It’s so kind of you to help Cedric pick out a special outfit for the gala. He’s going to have such a good time!”

“I’m only doing my duty, Princess Sofia. The King has required proper dress for the celebration and Cedric was simply lacking in that regard.” Baileywick modestly responded.

“Yes, but you’re always so busy, especially this past week. It’s very nice of you to take the time to help him personally!”

Baileywick opened his mouth to speak several times before actually making any progress. “I suppose… Though I think you’re making too much of the gesture.” He smiled again at Sofia, waving off her compliments.

“ _You’re_ being too modest.” She grinned back. “I’m sure Cedric appreciates your help!”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”                                                                                                  

“I know he does! You’re the _best_ , Baileywick.”

The castle steward couldn’t help but feel a warm fondness for the little princess well up in him. He shook his head and chuckled to himself. “You’re too kind, Princess Sofia.” He gave her head a gentle pat. “Now, I really must be on my way. There’s much to be done! I’ll see you again come suppertime I’m sure.” The two bowed and curtsied respectively and parted ways.

~*~

After passing through several hallways, adjusting flower arrangements and straightening picture frames along the way, Baileywick arrived at his destination. He opened the doors to the dressing room and found himself quite shocked that it was, in fact, occupied. Cedric had startled at the sound of the door opening, his arms flailing awkwardly while trying to steady the dress form he had been poking at. He managed to keep it upright before swallowing hard and turning to face the steward.

“Cedric? I must say, I’m surprised to see you here. I mean, before _me_ of course.”

The sorcerer straightened up, putting on his best apathetic expression. “Yes, well, y’see…” He struggled to find the right words, a slight tremble evident in his voice. He didn’t want to blurt out that he’d had nothing else to do or that he was so nervous he could hardly fathom sleeping in. “L-let’s just get this over with then, shall we?”

“Of course.” Baileywick gave the sorcerer a gracious smile and made his way to one of the cabinets, pulling out a roll of measuring tape and a pincushion. He looked over his shoulder at the other man, eyeing him up and down before humming his agreement on some internal decision unknown to Cedric. The steward nodded and motioned with his finger with a twirling motion. “Turn around, please.”

Cedric complied, but stiffened as soon as he felt the other man move closer. He tried not to tense too much as his arms were lifted and dropped, the measuring tape running smoothly and quickly over his form. “Turn and face me, please.” Baileywick requested, though there was firmness in his tone that suggested it would be best not to make this process take longer than it should. Cedric could feel his pulse quicken as the final measurements of tape zipped across his chest and down his side and leg. He understood why dancing would make him so apprehensive… but getting fitted for a suit? Why was he getting so worked up? Cedric pursed his lips and had to remind himself to breathe. Before he could dwell on it much longer, Baileywick’s voice thankfully interrupted.

“All done! That wasn’t so terrible now was it? I think we have something that we can make work right back here…” The steward-turned-tailor scribbled a few quick notes on a scrap of paper before nodding at Cedric and disappearing behind the curtains across the room. The sorcerer let out a long breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and flopped down on a plush little ottoman. He could hear the sound of the other man rummaging around in the room behind the curtain, though he wasn’t sure what exactly the drapery was hiding. Leaning forward and craning his neck to the side, Cedric attempted to peek into the mysterious room.

“Ah! Here they are…” Cedric jumped in his seat as Baileywick emerged from the curtains, several articles of clothing draped over his arm.

“Here _what_ are?” Cedric scoffed, attempting to cover up his genuine curiosity.

Baileywick held up the items and turned them front to back several times. A violet tailcoat was presented, a shade that quite closely matched his robes, as well as a selection of fine silk ties. The tailcoat was elegant but simple, considering what else could’ve lay beyond that curtain. Gold buttons adorned the breast and cuffs, glinting brightly in the light of the fitting room. The collection of ties ranged from warm golds and yellows to creamy white, each looking more decadent than anything Cedric had ever worn before. In fact, he was feeling a bit out of his element just looking at the finery presented to him.

“The coat will need to be taken in a bit at the sides… and the sleeves shortened I think.” Baileywick didn’t seem to notice Cedric’s awe over his selections and continued to muse over their options. “As for a tie, I feel any of these will do. It’s up to you if you prefer a cravat or bow. There are several shoes we can look through as well. Perhaps something with a matching buckle-”

“Can I…try it on?”

Baileywick smiled and nodded happily. “I insist.”

Cedric shrugged off his robes and tossed them unceremoniously to the floor to Baileywick’s dismay. The steward rolled his eyes and elected not to comment, instead ushering the other man to the mirrors and helping him slip on the tailcoat. “I’ll just have to pin a few things here and- Oh! _Definitely_ here… This sleeve needs to be hemmed a bit to fall _just_ at the wrist too…” The steward tutted and pinched at Cedric’s sides and continued to take verbal notes on the work that needed to be done. Ignoring the poking and prodding, Cedric took in his reflection. He raised a brow and smirked, feeling quite dashing in his new, albeit ill-fitting, coat. He put a hand on his hip and tilted his head, striking a somewhat confident pose. His movements seemed to vex Baileywick, an exasperated look on his face as he peered up at the sorcerer from over his glasses. Wordlessly, he pulled down Cedric’s arm and re-positioned his hips, fixing his posture to one of function rather than form so that he could continue with his fitting. After he’d finished pinning, Baileywick once again stood and walked around to Cedric’s side. The two stared at their reflections in the mirror, the busy dressing room behind them forgotten and out of focus.

“It looks good. We’ll have it taken in and ready by tomorrow morning. How does it feel?”

Cedric twisted his body around to get a better look at himself. “Hmm… Pretty good actually. Not nearly as uncomfortable as it looks, I’ll admit.”

“Is that positivity I’m hearing? Oh my, I can’t believe it!” Baileywick touched a hand to his cheek in sarcastic surprise. Cedric rolled his eyes in return, though the smile creeping onto his cheeks betrayed his show of irritation.

“Your torture is nearly over, Cedric.” The steward smirked and motioned for him to remove the garment so that it could be hung back up. Returning the pin cushion and measuring tape back to their proper places; Baileywick then gathered the collection of silky ties and laid them out neatly on a nearby vanity table. He rested his index finger against his chin in thought for a moment before speaking again. “I think I much prefer this custard yellow. It’ll offset the gold buttons and shoe buckle.”

“Mhmm…” Cedric agreed, though he was hardly paying attention. He could care less what color tie they picked. In fact, he was more distracted by matters that had less to do with fashion and more to do with the man currently fretting over colors and fabric choices. Walking over to the crumpled pile that was his robe, he picked it up and began to shake out the wrinkles. “Say, Baileywick…” He started, making sure his back was towards the other man.

Baileywick lifted his gaze back to Cedric and quirked a brow. “Yes? What is it?”

Cedric slipped back into his robes, busying his hands with the little tie around his waist as he continued. “Why’re you helping me out like this?”

The steward tilted his head, not quite in confusion, more like curiosity. “How do you mean?”

“I mean, like… well, taking the time t’do stuff like _this_.”

“I’m only doing my job, Cedric.” Baileywick stated, voice going a bit flat at the end.

“Yeah, well, couldn’t one of the maids have done a fitting? It’s not a huge job right? I know most of the servants can sew… I mean _I_ can’t but I’m sure it’s not ridiculously difficult.” Cedric waved his hand around whimsically, seeming to mime what he thought a “sewing motion” would look like.

“The entirety of the castle staff has their hands full with preparations for the spring gala, on top of the regular, day-to-day duties of course. I’m simply taking some of the extra work off of their shoulders. It’s my responsibility to make sure everything is up and running smoothly.”

“…Oh, yes. I see.”

Baileywick raised a brow at the sorcerer’s sagging tone. “Were you expecting a different answer?”

Cedric’s shoulders scrunched forward as he jolted at the question, suddenly on edge again. “N-no, of course not! It makes sense after all, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose so. Everything has to be in perfect order for the celebration, and I must do what I can to get us to that point.”

“Perfect, eh? Hah!” Cedric’s face morphed into a wry smirk. “That’s a laugh, isn’t it?”

“I’m not sure I understand…”

 “Nobody else wants to deal with the failure, right? The mess nobody wants to clean up after? Well I never asked anyone to clean up after me! I can take care of my own messes _myself_ … I _can_! I’ve been doing that for years now!” He suddenly felt his concerning disappointment dissolve into a growing fury, for reasons he couldn’t hope to ascertain. It was like his emotions were boiling over and getting confused with each other. “So throw the job on poor ol’ Baileywick, right? At the end of the day this all reflects back on you, doesn’t it?” Cedric whipped around and pointed directly at the steward, though once he did, he found it quite difficult to look the other man in the eye. “You’re all worried I’m going to screw things up again, like usual. So you’re just going to… y-you’re going to dress the mess up in a neat little package and hope it behaves and stays out of the way! Just hope and pray he doesn’t make us all look bad!”

He was out of breath and trembling. No more words bubbling to the surface, he now seemed a loss for words. Baileywick looked to be waiting patiently for his outburst to wane, hands tucked neatly behind his back. The sorcerer’s accusing finger drooped like a wilting flower.

“Are you quite finished?”

Cedric deflated, his shoulders sloping forward and gaze shooting to the ground in shame. Slowly, he nodded a ‘yes’ in response. How much more miserable could he get? He felt foolish and raw for laying it all out like that, blustering and emotionally unrestrained. What a mess indeed…

“Good. I don’t think either of us would be able to take another second of that.” Baileywick’s voice was quiet and soft, a tone easily comparable to how one would speak to calm a crying child.

He attempted to muster a remark about how he didn’t appreciate being talked down to, but was stopped mid-syllable by the abrupt feeling of arms wrapping around his wobbly form. Cedric’s whole body seemed to heat up, including his ever-reddening cheeks. He lifted his head only to stare blankly at the wall across the room. Gaze wavering, he struggled to regain control of _some_ part of his body. Opting to lift his arms, Cedric moved to return the embrace he wasn’t quite sure was actually happening. His hands fell weakly against the steward’s back, just ghosting over the fabric of his tailcoat before gaining courage and pressing back. Eyes squeezed tightly shut as the sorcerer tried his hardest to hold back any tears that threatened to escape.

Slowly, the embrace ended, Baileywick pulling away ever-so-gently, though his fingertips seemed to linger for only a moment on the sorcerer’s arms. He cleared his throat, hiding an awkward expression behind the knuckles of his left hand. “Well then, I should be going. There’s still much to do.” He tugged at the bottom of his coat and adjusted his glasses before tapping Cedric’s shoulder and snapping him out of his daze.

“Wh-…?” Was all Cedric managed.

Baileywick nodded towards the door and held out a hand, gesturing at the aforementioned exit. “Unless you’d prefer to lounge about the fitting room all afternoon… Though if you do, the castle tailor and myself would very much appreciate if you’d spruce up a bit during your stay.”

This seemed to truly break Cedric out of his reverie and back to his typical sardonic attitude. He rolled his eyes in response and approached the door. “Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving too.”

“So staying to clean is out of the question I see.” Baileywick stated, not without a hint of mirth.

“Naturally.”

Cedric was nearly out the door before he heard the steward’s nearly-inaudible voice comment: “I’d say I’m rather fond of cleaning up after your messes, at least most of the time.”

The sorcerer looked back over his shoulder at the other man, eyes wide. The door swung closed all too soon, but not before Cedric caught a glimpse of the old steward, a warm smile gracing his features.


	4. Time Flies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments have been so kind and honestly they keep me going! I'm sorry I'm such a slow writer haha. There's only one more chapter planned (though I'll see where that takes me lol) so bear with me. Hopefully this chapter will keep y'all entertained in the meantime! Thank you all again for reading!!! ^^

With just precious few days before the grand celebration, the royal family stayed faithful to their typical daily obligations and routines. This remained true for the children and the many lessons and hobbies they’d taken up. Queen Miranda had dragged her husband away to the garden to enjoy a cup of tea and some quiet, leaving a scant few servants to watch over the children as they played in the castle yard. It seemed today’s preoccupation was archery, Amber having quite taken to the elegance of a bow, though she’d clearly thought there would be more satin and velvet involved. Nevertheless, the princess plucked an arrow from the large quiver at her starting point and nocked it expertly. Narrowing her eyes and adjusting her posture, she let fly the arrow and watched it soar directly into her target.

“Yes! A perfect shot!” Amber pumped a tiny fist into the air at her success. Suddenly remembering her position, she withdrew her arms and, with a look of complete disinterest, tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder. “But such perfection is to be expected.” She punctuated her statement with a wink in her brother’s direction and a hint of cockiness to her smile.

“Yeah, yeah. It was good. But don’t get _too_ big of a head about one decent bullseye!” James rolled his eyes and fired off his own arrow, it making its mark as well as Amber’s had. James clicked his tongue and nodded towards his sibling, a smile of his own stretching across his face. “See? Besides, there’s hardly any wind today so almost every shot is going where it should be. Too easy.”

“You’re just jealous because I’m better at this than you.” Amber pouted. She fingered the feathered ends of the rest of her quiver’s supply of arrows, trying to choose which one would sail through the air best. Once she’d found one she was satisfied with, the princess twirled it around in her hands before firing it off and into another target’s bullseye.

“Okay Amber, whatever you say.” Her brother shrugged and nocked another arrow as well. “If you want to make it a competition, I’m game!”

The servants that milled about in the castle yard-turned-firing-range were more or less present for precaution rather than supervision. The twins were quite capable when it came to keeping each other company whilst playing, though it was better to be safe than to be sorry when it came to archery.

The faithful castle steward lingered nearby, both to keep an eye on the children and to make sure the hedges along the yard were trimmed precisely the way they’d been directed to. One of the gardeners looked to be nervous, growing on mildly irritated, as he clipped delicately at the plants in front of him while under Baileywick’s close scrutiny. The buzz among several servants revealed a frustration with the unusual amount of hovering from the steward, noting that he’d seemed particularly antsy all morning. It was as if he’d been itching to be elsewhere, though his staff could discern no reason why this would be. Perhaps it was the stress of all the gala preparations, or maybe something had set the older gentleman off and onto a bad mood, though that was nearly unheard of according to a majority of the servants. He didn’t seem angry though, and the day’s schedule had been running smoothly for the most part so the sense of urgency the steward emitted only served to confuse the gossiping crew.

“Take extra care around those buds. With proper care they should blossom the night of the gala.” Baileywick reminded the poor gardener. “We can’t rely completely on the castle sorcerer to make every bloom occur on time.” He leaned back and let a small smile slip through, giving his demeanor a gentle glow.

The gardener simply nodded in agreement, taking extra care to clip slowly around the tiny, pink flower buds.

Baileywick nodded back and resolved to let the gardener continue his work, satisfied that his instructions had been understood. He walked along the line of hedges that separated the stone walkway from the rest of the yard, inspecting their shape and height as he went. Instinctively, he drew the pocket watch out from the confines of his waistcoat, intending to check the time and configure how long it would be until the next dance lesson he would be instructing. The golden timepiece was nearly open in front of his eyes until it wasn’t. Something whizzed by the steward’s face, striking the watch from his hand and giving him the fright of his life.

“What on _earth-_ …!?” Baileywick startled, drawing his hand to his chest and letting out a shaky breath. He was suddenly aware of shouts to his left and the sound of footsteps tromping hurriedly over the grassy lawn. James was bounding across the yard, Amber close on his heels with her skirts drawn up at her sides.

“Baileywick! Are you alright?” James skidded to a halt in front of the steward, panting for breath and still clutching his bow.

“Of _course_ he’s not alright, James! You nearly put out his _eye_!” Amber reached his side and yanked the bow away from her twin brother. “I _told_ you not to draw it back so tightly!”

Baileywick, still recovering from the initial shock of the situation, kneeled down and found his pocket watch. An arrow had pierced through its ornate cover and remained lodged in the trinket. He picked it up off of the dirty ground and let it hang dramatically in front of his eyes, as well as the children’s. “James…”

“Y-yes, Baileywick?” James seemed reasonably nervous; though it was clear he was genuinely relieved that he hadn’t harmed anyone.

“What happened here? I can only hope your intention was _not_ to destroy this or strike me through the head in the process?” The steward gave the prince a stern look, his tone sarcastic but steady.

James swallowed and took the bow back from his sister, holding it up and pointing at the damaged instrument. “No, of course not! The string… I was trying to make the arrow go further… Amber warned me but I drew the string back too far. It snapped and the arrow just went flying!” James eyes were pleading and he was trying very hard not to stumble over his own explanation. “I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

Baileywick’s face softened at the boy’s words. He was relieved that the whole ordeal wasn’t a result of James’ typical carelessness… or some sort of ill-conceived and uncharacteristic murder attempt.

“I’m sorry about your pocket watch…” James pointed sadly at the mangled thing as it hung limply from its chain, arrow protruding defiantly.

Baileywick shook his head and let the timepiece rest in both his hands, almost cradling the object. He sighed and patted the prince on the head. “It’s alright James… Just be more careful next time. And listen to your sister!” He gave the two a little smile before heading inside to see what could be done about the broken watch.

Amber grinned mischievously and elbowed her brother in the side. “See?”

James grumbled under his breath, still feeling down about what had just transpired. His sister draped an arm over his shoulder and patted him on the chest reassuringly. “Don’t worry, James. I’ll teach you how to do it properly. It’s no trouble at all.”

~*~

“Oh dear, I’m afraid there’s not much I can do, Baileywick.” The watchmaker pulled down his magnifying spectacles, polishing their lenses on his shirt tail. “I’m very sorry.. Though there are several other timepieces here I could offer you as replacement if you’d like.” He offered a sympathetic smile and handed the watch back to its owner.

“Thank you, but no. I have another back home that I can use.” The steward peered mournfully at the broken watch in his palm, its chain curled weakly around itself like an injured animal. Even the shine seemed to have been tarnished from its ordeal.

The watchmaker spoke up again, rapping a finger on the countertop. “I know you’ve had that piece for a while now. It’s hard to let go of a well-loved watch, trust me! If you ever need another one, perhaps something similar in design, please come by again and I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Baileywick nodded solemnly in response, giving the shopkeeper a polite smile as he headed out the door and back towards the castle.

~*~

By the time his carriage arrived home, the sun had already begun its descending arc over the horizon. Not quite dinner time he noted, but close enough to make him regret not having brought the spare watch with him into town. Never one to abandon manners, Baileywick thanked the carriage driver and bid him good evening before hurrying back to his duties.

Baileywick’s urgency was felt by the rest of the castle staff, causing them to stay out of the steward’s way as he whisked through the halls, tutting and giving directions as he hurried by. The chefs were already beginning dinner as he glided in through the kitchen doors, a sterling chain hanging from his pocket rather than the usual gold. A couple servers raised their brows at each other as Baileywick passed between them, his stormy demeanor a good indication that the steward was not in the best of moods. Thankfully for everyone nearby, dinner prep went according to plan and the meal was soon wheeled into the dining hall. The servers swiftly laid out the crystal ware and silver finery just as the royal family took their usual seats at the table, napkins falling neatly into their laps with perfect timing. The smoothly-running routine seemed to help Baileywick’s mood to level out, seeing that his earlier tribulations had not detracted too much from the nightly schedule.

“Your majesties…” Baileywick bowed elegantly, as he approached the table. “I hope you’re all as delighted as we are for the festivities tomorrow.”

“Oh, we can’t _wait!_ Right, Sofia?” Amber, alight with anticipation, clasped her hands together in front of her chest.

“Of course, Amber!” Sofia smiled warmly and turned to face the castle steward. “This whole week has gotten us all so excited for the celebration. I can’t wait to try out the new dance we’ve been learning.”

Bailewick nodded and kindly smiled back at the princesses before facing and addressing the king. “There’s a few documents, permits and the like, that could use your attention after dinner, sir. I’ll have them laid out in your study for you once dinner has finished.”

“Thank you, Baileywick. I’ll attend to them post-haste!” Roland grinned before scooping a mouthful of roast up to his face. Following with a long draft from his glass, the king nodded in Baileywick’s direction. “Try not to run yourself too ragged, old friend. You seem a bit tired, if I’m being honest.” He smiled at the steward, genuine concern only slightly masked by his jovial attitude towards the meal in front of him.

“Oh, your majesty, I assure you I’m doing just fine.” The older man wrung his hands together behind his back, trying to push the urge to excuse himself from his thoughts. Things still needed to get done this evening, but dismissing oneself so rudely was simply not an option.

“Alright…” Roland seemed to accept his answer and return to his food, but not before giving the steward an understanding look.

“He’s right, Baileywick. It’s dangerous to spread oneself so thinly.” Miranda chimed in, her tone motherly and gentle. “And on top of everything else, there’s the dance lessons with Cedric… They’ve been going well, I trust?”

Baileywick stiffened at the queen’s mention of the time he’d spent teaching that week. He pursed his lips together and looked at her, a bit of surprise showing through his almost-neutral façade. “P-pardon?”

She beamed at the steward, a knowing twinkle in her eye. King Roland seemed oblivious to the look on Miranda’s face, continuing to eat, though he nodded at their conversation every so often. Miranda on the other hand, had laid down her fork as she awaited a response.

“Well, ah-…” The steward cleared his throat a bit awkwardly, averting his gaze as he continued. “The lessons, yes… they’ve been going as well as they can be. You know how Cedric prefers his tower, as well as his alone time.” Satisfied with his response, Baileywick straightened his lapels and nodded in the royal family’s direction. “Speaking of, we’re due for another trial in the ballroom. I’m afraid I’ll have to bid you all farewell for the evening. Please, enjoy your supper.”

Quickly, Baileywick bowed and took his leave, an offering of second helpings arriving in his wake. Each family member seemed to be preoccupied with their meal in one way or another, though Sofia and Miranda shared a grin and an astute glace with each other. The tinge of pink burning at his cheeks had not gone unnoticed by the two.

~*~

For the first time in his life, Cedric witnessed the old castle steward arrive later than scheduled. His eyes widened at the creak of the ballroom doors, Baileywick’s silvery head peeking through almost hesitantly. Seeming to spot the sorcerer, his expression softened, a relieved sigh escaping him as he entered the room fully and closed the doors behind him.

“I apologize for the wait, Cedric. This morning had a few unexpected surprises in store for me…” Baileywick approached him, hand unconsciously drifting to the pocket which normally held his favorite timepiece.

“It’s alright…” Cedric took notice of the steward’s almost-mournful gesture, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity. He tilted his head and pointed a finger at Baileywick’s waistcoat. “What’s wrong with your watch? Did y’lose it or something?”

Baileywick immediately withdrew his hand and crossed his arms behind his back. “Certainly not. I’d never be so irresponsible as to misplace such an item.” He attempted to mask his distress with irritation at the insinuation that he’d up and lost his prized possession. How foolish did Cedric think he was?

“Really…” The sorcerer wasn’t buying the act, a smug grin twitching at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, _really_.” Baileywick frowned deeply as he looked down at Cedric over the edge of his spectacles. “…As a matter of fact, it was broken earlier today. I’ve been using a replacement in the meantime…” His voice trailed off as he thought about the tarnished gold and the spiderweb-like cracks across its face.”

“C’mon, let’s see it then.” Cedric held his hand out expectantly.

Baileywick blinked a few times before responding. “I- you really think I’d carry around a broken watch all day?”

Cedric simply shrugged and continued to hold out his hand, motioning with his fingers to fork over the item in question.

The steward rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He twisted around to rummage through his other pocket, the decimated timepiece having been stuffed away in a hurry once he’d returned from town to the castle grounds. Almost begrudgingly, Baileywick held out the mangled watch and dropped it sadly into Cedric’s palm.

“Geeze, did you let Prince James get his hands on this thing?” Cedric gave a pitying look as he watched Baileywick cringe in response. He turned the trinket over in his hands several times, noting the hole that had been pierced through its center and the twisted hinges of the lid. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, the sorcerer pulled out his wand and cleared his throat. The watch dangled between the two, hanging from its chain in between Cedric’s finger and thumb. The words that passed through his lips were lost on Baileywick’s ears, not that he’d have been able to understand them. Instead, the steward’s green eyes were locked on the dazzling light that swirled around his destroyed pocket watch. It was like watching the damage go in reverse, all the parts shifting back into place and the cracks sealing up as if they’d never been there in the first place. Of course he’d seen magic performed before, but there was something almost hypnotizing about the way Cedric was molding the enchantment to his will; The confident wave of his wand and the nonchalant look on his face, as if this were something he’d done a thousand times before.

A look of awe still plastered on the older man’s face, he reached out a hand to touch the watch. Cedric readily gave it over, letting the now-glittering golden chain spiral into the other man’s hands.

“There, good as new. Shall we get to the dance lessons now? This is the last class before the gala and I don’t want to make too big a fool of myself tomorrow by not being prepared.” Cedric stated flatly, having clearly moved past the magical repairs he’d just performed.

“Cedric…”

The sorcerer looked back at Baileywick’s face at the mention of his name, his mouth falling open a bit at the expression on the steward’s face. How had he overlooked _that_?

Baileywick was still staring down at his newly-whole watch, cradled safely in his palm. A look of serene happiness was blooming over his features, culminating in the most beautiful smile Cedric had ever seen. The steward seemed to glow almost as much the golden pocket watch.

“Thank you.”

Cedric nearly jumped, snapping out of his reverie. How long had he been staring? “Y-yes, well… It was nothing r-really…” He muttered, flustered at the very genuine gratitude emanating from his dance teacher. The sorcerer jolted, startled by the hand now resting on his shoulder.

“I mean it, Cedric. This watch is very special to me…” The steward seemed to be lost in thought, or perhaps at a loss for the right words. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but seemed to have thought better of himself. Instead he pursed his lips together into a tight but gracious smile, his hand falling back to his side as he took a small step back. “Ahem, well- anyway… would you like to begin? “

The sorcerer felt a brief tingling where Baileywick had touched him and a hammering in his chest alerted him to the unsteady laugh that had escaped his throat. “Y-yeah. Yeah, that’d be great.”

Baileywick nodded, his posture shifting back to its usual, reassuring poise. “We’ll go over the basics once more, and then power through the finishing touches. I’m sure you’ll have everything down in no time.” The steward gave Cedric another heart-stoppingly warm smile as he took his hand and began to lead him around the ballroom once more.


	5. The Gala Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Thanks for the patience everybody. This was intended to be the last chapter, but I've extended a few things so I'm splitting it up into two! I hope you enjoy this one. Things are starting to wrap up!

Lilting strains of music filtered throughout the castle halls, intermingling with the harpists situated in the gardens amongst the peachy blossoms. Garlands and wreathes of flowers decorated nearly every inch of the castles interior, making it almost indistinguishable from the lush growth just outside. The afternoon sun had just started its decent and was already casting a pinky hue across the sky. If one were to take a moment to glance back the way they’d arrived, they’d be met with a breathtaking view of the only road onto castle grounds, entirely lit by little glowing lanterns nestled between perfect, colorful bouquets. Finally, the day of the spring gala had arrived. Preparation had only lasted maybe a week or so, but it had certainly felt like months to the staff. Yet, for all their troubles, the servants really had pulled it off. The celebration was already shaping up to be a gorgeous affair, and the festivities had only just begun.

The royal sorcerer peered out his tower window, watching a bit nervously as the first of many carriages made their way up the drive. Giggling women, young and old alike, spilled onto the front lawn and made their way through the expansive courtyard and up towards the castle entrance. If he squinted just a bit he could almost make out the gala invitations, grasped tightly in the hands of the younger girls, obviously thrilled about their first visit to the palace.

Cedric scoffed and pulled himself away from the window, swatting at Wormwood who had been perched a little too closely for his liking. Everything seemed to be in the way right then, but perhaps it was just the irritated mood he was bathed in at the moment. He’d never really noticed how messy his quarters were before, but as he nearly tripped several times over wayward stacks of spell books and empty glass vials, he couldn’t help but let out an exaggerated sigh. “I really should clean this place up more often…” Cedric cringed as the words left his mouth. That was exactly something Baileywick would’ve told him; In fact, that very phrase had been repeated endlessly by the steward in reference to his living space.

“ _Clearly_ , I’ve been spending too much time around Baileywick. I can’t wait ‘til this infernal ball is over with!” He huffed and threw his hands up into the air in a gesture of defeat. There wasn’t time to worry about something so miniscule. He still had to get dressed for the gala, go over the spells he was to perform, and try to remember all he’d learned during his dance lessons. Muttering under his breath, Cedric noted that it would surely be a great accomplishment if he could get even _one_ of those things right today.

~*~

Hardly an hour later and the castle grounds were bustling with guests and servants alike, the celebration already in full-swing. Queen Miranda practically glided through the throngs of people, gracefully greeting each and every party guest while still holding onto her daughter’s hand. Sofia curtsied politely at her mother’s side, a gleeful smile plastered across her dainty face. Everything about the evening was magical and incredible! The palace looked like it never had before; at least in the time she’d lived there. Scanning the crowd, Sofia spotted her siblings and waved. A giggle escaped her as she caught James pulling a pastry from one of his pockets and unceremoniously stuffing it into his mouth while he thought nobody was looking. Amber seemed to be perfectly at ease, twirling about as she greeted her friends and showing off her newest ball gown.

A round of applause sounded to her right, alerting her to another arrival.

“Oh, Sofia. Look.” Miranda gently turned her daughter in the other direction so that she was also facing the stairs. King Roland stood at the top, just outside of the castle and facing the garden courtyard they had all gathered in. Just behind the king, almost obscured by several royal attendants, waited a rather awkward-looking Cedric. Sofia beamed at his appearance, hopping a bit to get a better view of the sorcerer and his freshly-tailored suit.

Several grand proclamations and kind greetings were made, though the words were all lost on Cedric as he nervously eyed the multitude of party guests congregating at the foot of the stairs. Suddenly, he perked up at the recognition of his title being spoken and realized that that was his cue. Finding Sofia’s face in the crowd, he smiled back and pulled his wand from his sleeve, stepping forward and bowing before them all. The sorcerer held both hands out in front of him and waited; his audience wide-eyed as he had been only moments ago. A smirk flitted across his face, accompanied by a sudden burst of confidence as he began to wave his arms through the air. With a quick utterance and a flick of his wrists, the sky above them exploded with color and light. The crowd gasped in awe as flower petals and tiny glitters of light began to fall all around them, landing effortlessly on their heads and shoulders before quietly dissolving into the magic from which they were borne.

Satisfied with his performance, Cedric released a pent-up breath and let his arms fall back to his sides. He glanced over his shoulder for moment, just in time to catch the impressed expression on King Roland’s face. The two shared a silent nod and smile and returned to admiring the royal sorcerer’s magic display as the sun continued to sink below the horizon.

~*~

With the moon finally taking control of the night sky, the partygoers made their way inside. They filtered into the grand ballroom, servants posted at each entrance to take coats and handbags as well as hand out flutes of champagne. A larger orchestra awaited the guests at the far end of the ballroom, the strings already striking up a gleeful minuet. The already lavish chambers were draped with warmly-colored silk curtains, each tied back with a perfect velvet bow and a small corsage of assorted blooms. The spring gala was invariably held by the royal family so of course it would be opulent, but it remained a brilliant spectacle, each year always seeming to outdo the last.

King Roland, followed by the Queen and their children, took their seats at the front of the ballroom. Once the last of the guests had made their way in, their attention was drawn towards the royal family as the King began another grand speech; This one being much more brief than the last, Roland clearly itching to begin the next juncture of festivities. Applause lapped at the heels of his proclamations, the audience mirroring the King’s eagerness to drink more and dance through the night.

In contrast, Cedric waited at the edge of the ballroom, nervously pulling at his cuffs and scanning the room for something. He couldn’t seem to find Baileywick among the crowd and his nerves were starting to get the best of him. Surely the steward would be out socializing, aweing the guests with his well-mannered temperament and cool, yet charismatic aura. Parties and large social events were his specialty; A place where the steward could really shine, impressing not only the castle regulars, but the rest of the kingdom’s inhabitants. So where, then, was the ever-vigilant Baileywick, if not here at the center of celebrations?

Cedric paced a bit before furrowing his brow, determined to find the older gentleman and give him a piece of his mind. He was growing more nervous by the minute, the first of several royal familial waltzes already being performed. A few servants glided past the sorcerer, carrying more glittering trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. They’d come from a practically-hidden entrance, one that connected the kitchen and the ballroom. In an obvious act of avoidance, Cedric slinked through the unassuming doorway and into the busy kitchen in hopes of regaining some composure and confidence.

Hundreds of bottles, some opened and nearly drained of their contents, lined the expanse of countertops, interrupted only by pyramids of already-filled glasses on large trays, ready to be sent out to the guests. His presence seemed to go unnoticed, several servants rushing past without giving him so much as a glance. The sorcerer scanned the bustling kitchen briefly before spotting his mark, hurriedly taking strides across the tiled floors to get to the other side.

“Baileywick!”

The castle steward glanced up from what he was doing, eyes wide. “ _Cedric?_ What are you doing back here? The gala’s in full swing by now.”

“Yeah yeah, the gala, the party- _whatever_!” Cedric dismissively flapped his wrist, unconcerned. “The real question is what’re _you_ doing back here, puttering around the kitchens!?”

“I’m working, Cedric. How do you expect a celebration this size to run smoothly? Events like this don’t simply operate themselves.”

Cedric stuck out his lip and scowled, visibly pouting.

“… Go on and enjoy yourself. I’ve got a soufflé to supervise.” Baileywick replied coolly. He moved to walk around Cedric, though it seemed the sorcerer was intent on being in the way. “Pardon me-“

“How am I s’posed to just go out there without any backup?” Cedric argued. “I barely know the steps to the simpler songs… and I’m expected to impress a crowd? To not fall over my own feet?”

“Cedric please…” Baileywick frowned and gave Cedric a stern look over the rims of his spectacles.

“I can’t stand the thought of all those eyes on me, waiting for me to mess up…”

“You’re not going to mess up.”

“I am!”

The two stood there for a few moments, eyes locked. The scullery maids and chefs buzzed around the kitchen, somehow unaware that this conversation was even happening in their presence. Cedric could feel himself clenching and unclenching his fists, arms lying rigid and close to his sides. All this nervous energy was threatening to bubble up and boil over and he was certain his discomfort was obvious to all. The sorcerer broke eye contact for a second to glance at the floor and then back to the steward. Baileywick looked… tired… weary, even.

“I- uh…” Cedric pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, unsure of how to put what he was feeling into words. He’d noticed for the first time in the past few days just how _delicate_ Baileywick appeared. His attire was immaculate as ever, not a silvery hair out of place nor seam left un-pressed, but there was a slight slouch to his ordinarily perfect posture. There were fledgling shadowy circles beginning to form around his eyes as well, giving him an almost ghostly pallor. The castle steward was undoubtedly good at his job… but so much pressure on one man’s shoulders was bound to have some sort of effect.

 “…It’s not fair.”                                            

It was said quite matter-of-factly, a statement of truth. Baileywick in turn, tilted his head slightly at the sorcerer’s words. “What do you mean?”

Cedric gathered a deep breath and let out a sigh. “The gala… This whole celebration… It couldn’t have happened without you.” He took a moment to let his words sink in, catching a glimpse of surprise on the other man’s face. “It’s not fair that you’re back here, behind the scenes, making sure the cogs keep turning. You worked so hard to make sure everything fell into place and you don’t even get to enjoy any of it! It should be _you_ out there dancing and socializing, impressing the guests with your-“ Cedric waved his arms around in Baileywick’s general area. “Your- your whole-… _everything!_ ” He huffed, embarrassed, and wiped a hand down his features. “You work so hard, it’s just… _it’s not fair_.”

Another brief silence passed between the two, a perplexing look resting on the steward’s features. For the life of him, Cedric could not seem to discern what the other man was thinking, or feeling. He didn’t have much time to think on the matter, Baileywick inching forward and placing a hand on either of the sorcerer’s shoulders. He still wore an unreadable expression, even as Cedric’s face began to heat up at the other’s touch.

“Wh- Baileywick… what’s- uh…” Cedric stuttered and took a few, careful steps back. Baileywick followed his lead, taking steps forward and gracefully keeping the minute distance between them. If Cedric had taken a look behind him, he would’ve noticed they were already at the discreet doorway of the kitchen to the ballroom. Instead, he continued to stumble over his words, flabbergasted and a bit confused. Baileywick reached past him and pushed on the door, opening it and effectively letting in the din of the party as well as its orchestral melodies.

“C’mon, w-what are you doing? I _said_ I’m not ready to go out there y-“ Cedric began to complain before he was cut off, mid-sentence.

Baileywick had closed the already tiny gap between the two, hands moving from the sorcerer’s shoulders to his reddening cheeks. His lips felt warm and soft against Cedric’s, the embrace gentle but urgent.  A sweet, honeyed scent came to his attention now that they were so maddeningly close. An arbitrary note drifted through the sorcerer’s thoughts; _‘He’s been with the baker and pastry chefs all evening…’_

All too soon, the steward was pulling away, Cedric’s eyes barely fluttering open at the departure.  He released his hold on Cedric, who was looking very out-of-sorts, and beamed warmly. The sorcerer had almost gathered enough of his wits to speak when he felt himself being spun around to face the exit. Quite suddenly, he received a gentle push against his back and stumbled out of the kitchen and into the ballroom. Face flushed and eyes like saucers, Cedric heard the creak and perfunctory click of the door closing behind him.


End file.
